Literature -- Collections; Mystery fiction; Short stories
"While I was lookun out, I sid a great icebarg (they calls 'em)
a quarter of a mile away, or thereabouts, standun up,--one end
a twenty fathom out o' water, an' about a forty fathom across,
wi' hills like, an' houses,--an' then, jest as ef 'e was alive
an' had tooked a notion in 'e'sself, seemunly, all of a sudden
'e rared up, an' turned over an' over, wi' a tarrible thunderun
noise, an' comed right on, breakun everything an' throwun up great
seas; 't was frightsome for a lone body away out among 'em! I stood
an' looked at un, but then agen I thowt I may jes' so well be goun
to thick ice an' over Noofundland-ways a piece, so well as I could.
So I said my bit of a prayer, an' told Un I could n' help myself;
an' I made my confession how bad I'd been, an' I was sorry, an ef
'E 'd be so pitiful an' forgive me; an' ef I mus' loss my life,
ef 'E 'd be so good as make me a good Christen first,--an' make
_they_ happy, in course.
"So then I started; an' first I goed to where my gaff was, by the
mother-swile an' her whelp. There was swiles every two or three
yards a'most, old uns an' young uns, all round everywhere; an'
I feeled shamed in a manner: but I got my gaff, an' cleaned un,
an' then, in God's name, I took the big swile, that was dead by
its dead whelp, an' hauled it away, where the t' other poor things
could n' si' me, an' I sculped[11] it, an' took the pelt;--for I
thowt I'd wear un, now the poor dead thing did n' want to make
oose of un no more,--an' partly becase 't was sech a lovun thing.
An' so I set out, walkun this way for a spurt, an' then t' other
way, keepun up mostly a Nor-norwest, so well as I could: sometimes
away round th' open, an' more times round a lump of ice, an' more
times, agen, off from one an' on to another, every minute. I did
n' feel hungry, for I drinked fresh water off th' ice. No schooner!
no schooner!
[Footnote 11: Skinned.]
"Bumby the sun was goun down: 't was slow work feelun my way along,
an' I did n' want to look about; but then agen I thowt God 'ad
made it to be sid; an' so I come to, an' turned all round, an'
looked; an' surely it seemed like another world, someway, 't was
so beautiful,--yellow, an' different sorts o' red, like the sky
itself in a manner, an' flashun like glass. So then it comed night;
an' I thowt I should n' go to bed, an' I may forget my prayers, an'
so I'd, mubbe, best say 'em right away; an' so I doned: 'Lighten
our darkness,' and others we was oosed to say; an' it comed into
my mind, the Lard said to Saint Peter, 'Why did n' 'ee have faith?'
when there was nawthun on the water for un to go on; an' I had ice
under foot,--'t was but frozen water, but 't was frozen,--an' I
thanked Un.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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